Bathory's Secret: When All The Time In The World Is Not Enough (Affliction Vampires Book 1)

by Romina Nicolaides

  “Many years ago, Count Nádasdy married Erzsébet Báthory and gave her this castle as a wedding gift. All the staff were introduced to her and over the years we had quite the regular contact with them both, but especially with the Countess who stayed behind when the Count was off on his frequent military campaigns.

  Even though the Countess was strict, she was nevertheless a kind and considerate noble woman. Then a few years ago the Count died and the Countess left the castle and stayed in Vienna for some time. When she returned she was changed. Her appearance was still the same but the lavender perfume she had always worn was gone and in its place was the smell of death and decay. Her resemblance to Báthory was so strong in fact, that not even her children were able to tell the difference. These nobles never raise their own children so their bonds are weak. She quickly replaced most of the staff keeping only a handful. She could not replace me as I was the only one who could keep the place running so well and I was also the oldest serving person here. Of course she knew that I understood she was not the real Countess so she blinded me in order to show that she was in charge and I was to do as I was told for however long she desired me to do so."

  Kati put her hand on his with a tear in her eye.

  “How did her husband die?” She asked trying not to show sorrow in her voice.

  “He was killed in battle; she wasn’t responsible for that one despite the timing.”

  “They say sorrow changes a man, or a woman in this case, and a slight change in her appearance could be put down to the severe shock and pain of losing her husband. The greatest sign for me, however, was the color of her eyes. Before the death of the Count she had these beautiful black eyes, but when she came back, if she became tired or angry her eyes would occasionally flash a crystalline green. She also became averse to daylight. She would not venture out to hunt or ride as she had previously. Also, young local girls began to disappear. Girls like you, who came to work at the castle, suddenly began to die in numbers greater than normal.” Kati gasped.

  “In the beginning she would explain it away as disease or accidents but the priests began to suspect something was wrong, especially Pastor Barosius who was overwhelmed by all the bodies.

  She had another four helpers before you I’m afraid to say, who all lasted about a year before some terrible accident resulted in their disappearance.”

  Kati felt the blood drain from her face. She really wanted to believe that what she’d read were the ravings of a mad woman but it seemed more and more unlikely.

  Sensing her alarm the old man tightened his grip on her hand in a gesture of comfort.

  “I have to get away. If what you say is true then she’ll kill me too!”

  “You can’t do that, Katalina. For the first time, someone has been given access to her story written in her own words. We have suspected her for years but no one has been able to discover very much, except for you and your wonderful thirst for knowledge. You are the only one who has ever gotten so close to the truth.”

  “Yes, but I’m not going to die for it!”

  “Are you prepared to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder and never having a moment’s rest? She’s a powerful woman, Katalina, she won't stop until she finds you and exacts her revenge. You know that as well as I do.”

  She held her head in her hands not knowing what to do.

  “Are there any more journals?”

  “Yes, several more.”

  “If you stay, you can be the key to discovering more of her secrets so that we can bring her down finally. You won’t have to live the rest of your life in fear!”

  “Me, a fourteen year old girl, and you, a blind old man, bring down a centuries old, magical Countess?”

  “The Pastor knows about her too, and he’s been watching her. There’s a few people who are prepared to take her down and you can be the catalyst."

  “But she’ll kill me!” She said crying.

  “She’ll kill you even if you don’t. She has special abilities, connections and money. If she chooses to kill you, she’ll do it no matter where you are, child. But if you bide your time, read the journals and help us gather evidence against her, we’ll stop her soon enough, just don’t disagree with her. Keep your head down and do whatever you can to be indispensable to her. That will guarantee your survival, do you understand?”

  Kati was shaking her head from side to side as if to say “no” but she knew that he was right and she had little choice. She had to go back and see this through. She knew that by leaving she put her mother in danger too, as well as Milošš who had to be protected, and possibly Oriana.

  “I’ll be outside. Take all the time you need to think about it. If you are going to do this, you need to make the decision yourself.”

  She buried her face in her hands again as the old man fumbled behind his chair for his walking stick. Slowly coming to his feet he walked outside and knelt by his flower beds.

  Shortly afterwards Kati joined him. As scared as she was, she knew she had to go back. Running would’ve meant certain death to her and her mother. At least if she went back she could try and help stop the Countess, and if Báthory did decide to kill her then at least her mother would be spared.

  Putting his arm around her shoulders, the old man pulled her towards himself again, and she began to cry into his chest.

  “Have faith child, have faith. We can pull through this.”

  Wiping her eyes with her fingers, she picked up her little parcel and headed back to the castle.

  It was quite late in the day when Kati got back. Opening the small door she peered in and saw that the courtyard was as empty as when she had left it. Only Mačka was around and he was overjoyed to see her, unaware of how close he’d come to never seeing her again. She stroked his head and promised to find him some food before going back inside.

  Hiding the books in her room, she went straight up to the binding room to a floor strewn with journals. Taking a deep breath she sat back on the ground and continued reading from where she had left off:

  A few hours before dawn an unnaturally pale Afflicted child appeared out of the dark corridor and approached my cage. She was carrying a small satchel of blood which she threw in my cell before walking away unfazed and disinterested. Her eyes were opaque white and she clearly couldn’t see but she seemed to know her way around perfectly well despite the fact.

  “Wait,” I said but she too ignored me and walked away.

  “She can’t understand you, she only speaks Latin. And besides that, she’s also blind and only has a few basic duties." I looked outside my cell and saw a priest. He too was in red robes and was in his mid-fifties and rotund. His salt and pepper hair was short but peeked a little from under his hat.

  “It would appear that everyone in this compound has selective hearing one way or the other.”

  He laughed out loud, clearly amused by what I had said and merely muttered “Indeed” before producing a key from his pocket. I noticed he was carrying chains so instinctively I growled at him. Unperturbed he opened the door to my cell and walked in. In a calm and collected way he took one of my arms and secured the chain to my cuff. I struggled.

  “What are you doing? Let me go!”

  Not appreciating my disobedience he struck me heavily across the face and I fell to the floor. He breathed out. He took my other hand and secured it to the second chain and suspended each arm on a loop on either side of the wall positioning me as if on a crucifix. After tugging a few times and making sure that I was carefully bound and would not be able to move he stood back to catch his breath. The exertion had been too much for him. Standing silently for several minutes he just watched me before lowering his head and mumbling an unheard prayer. Approaching me once again and oblivious to my constant hissing he proceeded to tear off my dress before observing my naked body while I hung there struggling with the chains. He then began to caress my breasts, my thighs and my buttocks while I begged him to stop. Suddenly grabbing me by the hair he p
ulled my head back and looked into my eyes. He pushed a dirty rag into my mouth to prevent me from biting him and tied another one round it to keep the first one in.

  “Do not presume that I will enjoy this in any way. My martyrdom beckons that I do this!” His eyes glazed over like the Head Priest I had spoken with earlier. “By fucking the Devil’s children we show that we would do anything in His name! This will be far worse for me than it will be for you. You demons are insatiable after all.”

  He lifted his robes to reveal his erect cock and quickly entered me. The pain was stabbing and intense, my eyes teared involuntarily. “Oh Sweet Lord, a virgin demon!” He exclaimed in cries of pleasure while he grabbed and pushed against my buttocks. He stank of sweat and cloves mingled in one and I could feel the few contents of my stomach begin to rise to my throat. Even though he struggled for breath he managed to finish considerably sweatier than when he had started. I cried and struggled throughout but this only served to excite him further and all the while I hoped so much that he would drop dead on the spot. In fact the only way I survived these nightly visits was by imagining the way I would torture and kill him the day I was free of that place. I visualized every part of his body that touched me flayed and disconnected from its owner while he was still alive and made to watch his own dismemberment and torture.

  When he was done he calmly rearranged his clothing and regained his composure, wiping the sweat off his face and neck with a dirty handkerchief. Before untying my hands, he punched me in the stomach and then released my chains dropping me where I was and leaving me to ungag myself.

  The following morning the Keeper came to get me. She brought a change of clothes with her. The outfit consisted of a plain white linen shift shirt and a pair of pantaloons with hardy leather sandals.

  “I’m sorry for what you experienced last evening,” she said calmly. Whether she was truly sorry was unknown. The only certainty was that she knew it was coming and did nothing to stop him.

  “Father Eusebios takes it upon himself to be the first to ‘practice his martyrdom’ on all the new girls that come in.”

  “Thank you for the warning,” I said as I dressed myself.

  “It would have made little difference if I had warned you.”

  “I could have fought!” I said in protest.

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  That was not a question I was expecting. I was lost for words.

  “The silver on your wrists saps your energy, do not forget. Also, these men have been doing this a long time. They know how to disable you with the minimum energy dispensed. They might seem fat and immobile, but I reassure you they have their ways. You’d better get used to the nightly visits for they will happen often, and not always by the same priest. They take their martyrdom seriously here.” My heart sank and my body ached.

  We were walking within the enormous compound, which slowly revealed itself to be made up of several recessed areas of different sizes. There were massive halls and small cells, kitchens and workrooms, stables and prayer areas, sleeping areas, feeding areas and so many more. Most were natural but others were man-made and many were being worked on as we walked. Afflicted prisoners in chains were hacking away at large parts of rock and others were carrying away the stones and dust. At every corner there were guards and above us all, attached to the walls were these massive mirrored disks all angled in such a way as to be partially facing each other in a continuous stream all the way to the top of the system.

  “What are those disks for?” I asked.

  “Hopefully, nothing we need to worry about at the moment.”

  Stopping at a large gate the Keeper turned to me, “When we enter this place you will only look down and you will not utter a word until we reach our destination!” We knocked and waited until a person in a loose black robe opened the door. Their heads and faces were covered so I couldn’t tell if they were male or female, Afflicted or not. The door opened to a long candlelit hall with a row of cloth cubicles on each side. The people in the cubicles could not see the person they were next to but the front was open if the curtain was not drawn. We walked all the way to the end and after a few moments the Keeper pulled the curtain of one and ushered me in. In front of me facing away, knelt a nun, like the one I had seen on my first day here, who was naked from the waist up. She was kneeling on the ground with her hands clasped tightly over a silver rosary and in deep prayer. Her neck and back were covered in bites, cuts and bruises in several stages of healing. The Keeper gestured towards the nun and told me to drink.

  I did not have to be told again and quickly sank my teeth into her soft white flesh. I felt her body tense up and heard her moan as if in pleasure and whisper her prayers a little louder. The fresh blood was a welcome change to the tiny satchels I had been given in recent days. Immediately I got flashes of the nun’s thoughts which were mainly about Jesus on the cross, but I also got a sense of enjoyment or gratification. However, before long I felt a burning sensation at the back of my neck and heard the order to stop by my Keeper. I looked around and gave her an angry look for interrupting me and saw her gloved hand holding a small silver cross, the means by which she had burned my neck.

  “That’ll do for now,” she said and ushered me outside through a different exit.

  “Why did you have to burn me?” I glowered.

  “How many days has it been since you last ate from a living person?”

  “I don’t know fifteen, twenty?”

  “And would you have let go, if I’d only told you to stop?”

  I saw her point and didn’t answer.

  “They need those nuns to stay alive in order to feed us. If they are exsanguinated then we have nothing to eat. We must exercise self-control.”

  “Why do they allow us to drink from them?”

  “It’s how they experience Martyrdom. The one you drank from is young and relatively new to the Order but others have been doing this for years and many grow to enjoy it to the point of ecstasy.” From what I could tell from the brief time I’d been there, the veneer of Martyrdom had helped these people build a monastic empire around a loose Christian dogma which sanctified all their perverse desires and materialistic excesses.

  “Does anyone know how this Order was started?” I asked.

  “I’m sure the Head Priest does, but he doesn’t share his knowledge with us. All I know is that I have been here virtually half my life and it was very much organized and active when I got here. He has been running this place like clockwork for a long time.”

  “What do you mean he, you can’t possibly mean the Head Priest?”

  “Yes I do.”

  “But he is unafflicted, is he not?”

  “Yes he is. He is very much human and mortal and the minute he leaves this place he will age and die within a few short years.”

  “Then how…?”

  “Just like they give us their blood to feed on, we ‘give’ them our own to lengthen their lifespan. By drinking small quantities of it, they do not become Afflicted but are given longevity beyond that of a standard human. As you will notice the nuns sustain us and we in turn sustain the priests who seem to receive the most benefit out of the whole equation. The ‘Blood Brides’ are convinced that by giving their blood they are assisting in the Lord's work. The priests are the more hands on types.”

  We arrived at another large hall where I was quickly secured to peg on the ground and cut on the wrist while the blood I lost was collected into a small ceramic bowl. The Keeper then replaced me on the peg and she too was bled and released.

  After that we returned to my cell where she locked me away again.

  “That’s enough excitement for one day,” she said.

  “Will I have to do this daily?”

  “No, feeding and bleeding are done once a week or depending on the whims of the clergy.”

  “Is this what my life is going to be like now? Feeding, bleeding and then returned to this cage to be somebody’s plaything? Let me out! Why won’t
you fight them? Why do you stand aside and let all these horrible things happen to us? You should be ashamed to be betraying your own kind like this!” She stared at me with a dead look in her eyes. She heard me but the words went right through her and into the void. I wanted to grab her and dig my fingers into her brain to wake her up or take a bite out of her bony throat. She was one of us, the people that I never knew I belonged to, and yet she didn’t care in the slightest. She stood by and let these disgusting priests use and abuse us under the guise of religion and all under the excuse of having tried and failed.

  “You too shall learn to obey in time. The more you fight them, the more they will torture you. The more they will try to shake the Devil from inside you and the more they will enjoy it.” She grabbed my arm through the rusty bar and held it tightly until her knuckles went completely white. She looked straight at me with her pain-filled eyes willing me to understand that it was better her way.